


Assassin

by Momonicole



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Sam Winchester's Visions, Werecoyotes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momonicole/pseuds/Momonicole
Summary: Hoping to understand why Sam's visions are back, Sam and Dean have searched for months for a hunter that could help them get to Crowley. Yet the brothers have no clue that this hunter is barely human.





	1. Chapter 1

Run Run Blood – Phantogram

She felt the life starting to go and she growled. Too easy. Her jaws tightened even more when the starting curl of black smoke appeared. The demon’s neck was now loose and she shook her head, feeling the last of life rattle out of him.  
Done.

 

**Chapter 1:**

“Dammit Sam! You use up all of the bullets already or were you just trying to leave them a trail?” Sam stopped short and turned to face Dean and looked at him incredibly.

“You think I forgot them? I thought you had them,” he hissed. Dean threw up his hands and stared at Sam. They had been trying to find the infamous hunter for months now. No breaks in this case had created a frustrating tension in both of the brothers.

“We’ve been chasing dead ends for months Dean. Don’t you think we should move on?” Dean grunted. The remark didn’t stop him and they continued on for another ten minutes in silence. They were growing farther away from civilization, heading towards the densest part of the woods. It wasn’t until a large branch snapped back bringing blood to drip down Sam’s face did he groan in frustration. He paused and tried to break the branch to continue on. When he couldn’t he looked up to see that Dean hadn’t stopped at all.

“Dean! Will you just stop for a second?” The tone of Sam’s voice managed to make him pause and turn around with tensed shoulders for he knew what was about to happen.

“This is our only option now Sam. And I refuse to give up on this. That would…” His voice faltered and he pressed his lips together, looking for the words. “That would be me giving up on you. And I’m not about to do that.” He pointed his finger aggressively towards Sam and swatted away at the gnats swarming around his sweaty forehead. “We got through your psychic crap the first time. We can do it again. Just got to get it under control, that’s all. And we need leverage on Crowley to do that.”

Sam released a sigh. “But Dean last time this happened it was connected to yellow eyes. He’s long gone. Maybe we just have to come to terms that I will always have this. It’s just a part of me, of who I am. You know, that destiny stuff we’ve heard about.”

Dean scowled and aggressively shook his head. “No. No, I refuse to think that this is you now. Destiny? You know what I think about that word. It’s just useless crap and doesn’t mean anything is written in stone. After all of the shit we have been through this can’t stop us. We’ll fix it.”

“You mean fix me?”

Dean scoffed. “No, I didn’t mean that. Just this freaky vision sci-fi stuff is back again. It’s not you, just an aftermath tremor of yellow eyes.”

“Dean I’m not some earthquake. I think-” He was cut off by Dean who had started to take steps away from Sam and towards unknown land.

“We just have to find this so-called assassinator. He’ll be able to help us. After the stories we’ve heard, this guy knows how to get to Crowley.”

“Stories. Rumors. Two different things.”

Dean stopped walking and held out his arm to stop Sam. Twenty feet away from them was a huge grubby-looking dog, its jaws snapping at them. Each snap of teeth splattered blood onto the ground. Dean raised his gun without a noise while Sam’s eyes were locked with the creatures. The alarming azure eyes watching them made him reach for Dean’s gun. Dean jerked his head to throw a look at Sam, making the animal dart through the brush into a run. The two brothers looked at each other, Sam’s mouth opened while Dean’s eyes were narrowed.

“That wasn’t a dog.”

Dean jerked his head towards Sam. “Well no shit Sammy.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Genesis” – Ruelle

She was running in her skin. Her skin. More like her fur but that didn’t matter: it was hers. She knew she was being hunted but this was not new to her. She focused more on the scents flying around her and her agile body moved. She loved this, being able to run as fast as this body would allow, feeling the ground adjust beneath the weight of this body, hearing her paws clip moistened dirt with every step.

She needed to move fast if she wanted to lose these men. Judging from the scent of sweat and leather these were hunters, not demons. They knew what they were doing and they knew what could take her down. The demon blood pumped stronger in her blood at the excitement of a new hunt so soon, a new challenge. Run faster.

She heard a bullet wiz past a foot above her head. A warning shot? Amateurs. Picking up speed, she looped around the only bald pine tree in the forest trying to get them off of her trail. She slowed until she was hunkered down under the bare pine. Flat on her stomach among the dead leaves, she knew that she blended in and the men wouldn’t be able to spot her. She could smell them before she saw them: sweaty, huffing, and slowing to a stumble. Her first glimpse at the men and she wasn’t impressed.

 

“Dean I think we lost him. You want to head back now or do you need a minute to rest?”

“Shhh shut it.” Dean slurred and waved the hand that wasn’t resting on his hip, still breathing hard. Once he regained his composure he turned to Sam and glared.  
“At least I know how to shoot a gun. Why did you take that shot for?”

“Just a warning shoot. We have more bullets back in the car.”

“That’s if we even find my car!”

“Calm down Dean. We’ll find the car.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah we better find my car.” They stood in silence for a minute looking around before Sam spoke.

“What do you think it was? Werewolf?”

Dean sucked his lower lip and bit into it, his eyes scanning the trees surrounding them. He shook his head. Sam was standing there waiting for him to say something. It was eerily quiet, not even Dean made a noise as he slowly crouched down and grabbed a nearby stick. He began to move the dead leaves that covered the ground around clearly searching for something and waddling to move around. Dean looked up as Sam furrowed his brows in bewilderment.

“What? This is still hunting. Just how normal people do it.”

“Yea, I know because that’s what dad first taught us. But right now, we’re hunting something more than a simple animal.”

Dean signed and got up from his crouch, brushing his hands on the thigh of his jeans. “When will it ever be simple? Just a simple hunt, that’s all I want along with a celebratory burger after.” Sam glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders but the slight movement beyond Dean made him stop. A hundred yards or so off he saw just the slightest tuff of fur slip away. He locked eyes with Dean and jerked his head towards the mound of dirt in the distance. Dean nodded his head and slowly turned around, lifting his gun to aim at whatever it was his brother had seen. One shot was all he needed, he was sure of it.

 

She had made it to the cabin before she knew what was wrong with her wound. He had used a bullet coated with silver. Her body shivered knowing that she had to change if she wanted a chance at survival. I can handle being human for ten minutes. She braced her paws on the crumbling bricks that made up the front step and began to growl. The pain wasn’t as bad as the first few seconds of human consciousness.

The anger always hit her first, usually followed by guilt.

She stayed on the ground for a minute, trying to get used to the changes in vision and scent. Grimacing when the scent of the two men grew stronger, she got to her feet and leaned against the wooden door. She brought her hands closer to her face and examined the smooth and hairless skin, the dirt and dried blood beneath her fingernails. Working the muscles in her hand, she took longer than she thought to open a simple door. _How can humans live with these delicate things they call fingers?_

She could have easily torn the door off but first she needed to make sure the bullet wound was healing. She walked slowly to the kitchen, stopping to pick up a shirt that had been left on the ground and flexed her left leg, hoping that it would ease the cramping. She started to dig her finger into the wound in her thigh, hissing as her finger made contact with the silver bullet. How would they have known they needed silver?  
Bringing the shirt to her nose and scowling when it smelled of the men, she moved to sop up some of the blood from her thigh but stopped when she heard the front window being shoved open.

“Ah ha! I told you I still had it!”

“You know there’s a door, right?”  
She heard a snorting noise come from one of the men. She crouched down and pressed against the wall. Slipping the shirt on over her head, she pressed her hand to the wound in case the intruders hadn’t smelled the blood yet. She could hear them clattering around near the table followed by a silence that sent a shiver down her back. The instinct to fight was screaming at her, her blood beginning to grow a familiar heat, and her hands were held in tight fists.

_Deep breathes._

She heard his feet before she smelled him just a foot away from her. Her head snapping, she stood up quickly, her back still against the wall. He was too tall to be human. He held his hands out before him as he took a step towards her.

“Hey, hey there. We’re not going to hurt you.”

His eyes stayed locked on hers as he took another step. She growled but only managed a dry, croaking noise. The other one stepped into her view.

“Sam?”

“You’re hurt.”

The tall one was looking more closely at her face, his eyes moving down to her neck. She hadn’t been able to rub the rest of the blood from her neck. As long as the blood wasn’t hers, it didn’t matter. But this time it was hers and she could feel a cold trail of blood dripping down her thigh all the way to her foot. She glanced over at the sink and longed for water. She would need water if these men were the chatty type. Looking at the shorter man, she figured he would be the talker to make up for his size. Mouth feeling full of dirt and her throat screaming, she opened her mouth “M’ fine.”

The shorter man took a step towards her. “I’m not so sure. That looks like a lot of blood.” She looked at him to see if he would come closer but what caught her eye was the look of recognition on the other’s face. She couldn’t be here; she couldn’t stay.

_Get out, run._

She turned and was ready to shift but stopped dead when she heard the click of the gun safety.

“Stop right there.”


End file.
